


Pushed him Underwater, Blamed him for Drowning

by xTylar_Writes_Thingsx



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, He wants to make it up to Tommy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Manipulation, Not a ship fic, Self-Hatred, ghostbur is sad :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTylar_Writes_Thingsx/pseuds/xTylar_Writes_Thingsx
Summary: Tommy. Tommy used to smell like lavender and amber.An under bearing smell that had shown his determination and hard work, mature for his age. But it also radiated childish innocence. Because Tommy is a child.Now, Tommy smells like gunpowder, courtesy of Wilbur. Tommy smells like the blood of his own wounds. Tommy smells like salt, from the tears that he has held back so many times to complete the wishes of what everyone else expected of him.Tommy didn't smell like Tommy anymore. Tommy smelt like a child who had to grow up to fast for others who didn't appreciate or care about him enough.This includes himself. Ghostbur could remember everything. Was he even Ghostbur anymore?----AKA: Ghostbur gets his memories back in a very odd way, and after they are returned to him, he vows to help Tommy after everything he has been through.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 340





	Pushed him Underwater, Blamed him for Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> CLARIFYING THAT THIS IS NOT A SHIP FIC

(THIS IS NOT A SHIP FIC!!! JUST BROTHERLY LOVE!!! Also, I realised that it might get a little confusing to tell the difference between the present and the past what with my terrible writing skills, so things in italics are memories and normal text is current! Sorry!)

Ghostbur was lounging on a rock basking in the luminescence next to the DreamSMP’s iconic pond. His anger was the only thing refreshing his memory of what happened that day.

Phil had killed friend, and Tommy was sad. He had already been concerningly blue back when they were on vacation, back when ‘Lads On Tour’ was an adequate term to label Logstedshire but even now he is not sure what Tommy's emotions were, with his awful memory and whatnot. 

He remembers that Dream and Techno blew up L’manberg today, but it gave him an unsettling quantity of nostalgia. He feels like something like this has happened previously. 

There are few things that Ghostbur truly remembers from his past. Most of his memories Alivebur had locked away, whether purposefully or unintentionally. His consciousness does not allow him to remember things that people said he did, whenever they hint at a past action his mind shuts down and represses the encounter as far away in his brain as possible.

It isn’t as if he did not WANT to remember, it’s just that something or someone wasn’t allowing him to. Ghostbur recollects things such as the earlier notations of the L’Manberg rebellion, and of when he and Tommy tried to sell drugs in the hot dog caravan. Joyful memories. 

If he had so many delightful memories, why did he feel so blue all of the time? Is it because of whatever Alivebur did? Is it because he can’t remember anything about his own son? Is it because he’s slowly losing more memories with each passing day? Yes, it must be that. 

Perhaps he should begin to write in a journal like Ranboo does so he doesn’t forget things. With a raise of his hand and a snap of his fingers, he summons a blank book from his sewer library along with a quill. He grimaced at the charred edges, but he supposed this was the best he could do. The only remnants of his own personal library lost in the crossfires of today's war. 

Ghostbur picks up the quill and expects himself to start writing at a rapid pace like he normally did when writing one of his fictional stories, however he stopped in thought. This was unusual, he could normally start writing as if the sun was about to crash into earth, however this time he was completely stumped. 

He racked his brain for anything, scraping the contents of his memory bank for something of use. Out of everything that had slipped from Ghostbur’s mind, the only thing that truly stayed prominent was…

Odd.

He couldn’t identify events or arguments, even most of the cheery moments, but could vividly remember smells. 

Scents, to be more precise. 

Scratch that, it was more than odd. Why could he remember the scents of everyone from home? That was borderline creepy! Well, perhaps that is why it is slipping from the recesses of his brain, becoming faded as the days pass. 

Although, however much he thought it was weird, it was the only clear memory of his past that remained. It was a nostalgic feeling (The good kind) that he did not quite understand, but wanted to keep. 

As Ghostbur thought about it more and more, the less odd it seemed to be. Scents were the only thing that can describe someone's current state in a tender way, correct? With speech, you can misinterpret things or read people wrongly. You can’t judge someone by their appearances; the richest looking and powerful man could also be living in a cardboard box. Ghostbur scoffed. Kind of like Dream. Scent wasn’t permanent like appearances, it changes and adapts with your environment.

Alivebur did like physical contact, so it makes sense in why he would remember what each of his friends smelt like. Perhaps recollecting some of these scents would unlock his past memories. Ghostbur closes his eyes as memories flood back to him.

_ Dream. Dream smelled like blood and sweat. It was quite a repugnant smell, but it had good connotations in a way.  _

_ Dream smelt like a warrior; a warrior who worked incredibly hard to stand where he is today. A man who fought through the hatred of other men hand in hand without looking back.  _

_ Before the war, before the conflict or the disks or the drug van, the people of DreamSMP did not actually hate anyone as anything besides individuals. Wilbur and Dream often fought together, and once when they were training in combat Wilbur had finally beaten the man, standing behind the blonde with his arm spread out across Dream’s shoulder and a blade pressed to his neck. _

_ As Wilbur tried to control his rapid breathing from the physical activity, he sucked in air through his nose greedily. Training was probably one of the only times that Alivebur had ever gotten close enough to smell the man. _

_ Sapnap. Sapnap surprisingly did not smell like dirt or grime like he had expected to. Rather he smelt of faint flowers and pollen. This was probably due to the fact that Sapnap wore perfume, so Ghostbur can not identify his true scent. Wait, how did he know that Sapnap wears perfume? Oh, right!  _

_ Back in Logstedshire, Sapnap had come to visit Tommy with Dream! Tommy said that Sapnap probably smelt like shit, and Sapnap had retorted back saying something like “I smell like your Mom’s perfume”. Tommy had laughed at this, asking why he would be wearing his mother’s perfume. Odd, Tommy doesn’t even have a mother! Only Phil!  _

_ Phil…  _

_ But! But, Ghostbur wanted to see! He wanted to see if Sapnap actually smelt like perfume so he snuck up behind the man and let in a big whiff. Sapnap had swatted him away calling him a weirdo. But it was worth it; as Sapnap went to gloat about how Tommy couldn’t go back to Lmanberg, Ghostbur relished in the fact that he knew more about his friends!  _

Wait, why couldn’t Tommy go back home? Ghostbur tapped the tip of his nose, his eyes scrunched closed and eyebrows knitted together. With a frustrated huff, he threw his head back in annoyance. All this ‘remembering’ was starting to hurt his brain. 

_ Eret. He doesn't like Eret at all. Why should he? He was the one who betrayed all of his friends! Mixed along with a traitorous scent was a hint of holly and cinnamon. Like Christmas.  _

_ He remembers the Christmas tree back in the SMP lands. It was huge, glistening with lights and shimmering with tinsel. It shone bright like the Northern Star, a marker of temporary peace between Dream and L’manberg for the holidays.  _

_ Ghostbur remembers Eret asking him to meet him at the tree, and albeit hesitantly, he reluctantly agreed. When he arrived, Eret was stood looking at the evergreen in thought. When Ghostbur let out a tiny cough to announce his presence, the man turned around with papers in his hands. He had started explaining that since Ghostbur was dead and could no longer properly take care of his son, Eret would be adopting Fundy.  _

_ Ghostbur felt a surge of rage rush through his veins, opening his mouth to retort violently when Eret cut in. _

_ “I know we have bad blood between us, and this is probably going to make it worse. Alivebur cared a lot for Fundy, and wanted him to be as happy as possible.” Ghostbur’s mouth closed, a look of scepticism written on his face as Eret continued. _

_ “I hate myself for what I did that day, betraying my friends and helping the tyrants we have been fighting against since day one. And for what? A stupid crown and title that does more harm than good? That's why I want to adopt Fundy, to make it up to Wilbur and all of my friends. I know he wouldn't want Fundy without a father figure in his life, and after all that I have done Fundy had been the first to forgive me for my actions. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, and I know that asking you even in death for help is a dickhead move, and I do not deserve your kindness. But becoming Fundys adopted father would mean the world to me. Please, Ghostbur-'' Eret bowed to Wilbur, holding the papers out in front of him with a death grip. _

_ “Allow me to become Fundys father!”  _

Ghostbur quickly dropped the smile that he didn't even realise he let creep onto his face. He dragged a hand through his wiry hair, sighing as he hit his forehead with his palm. His eyes met the rays of the moonlight reflecting off of the pond. It was as beautiful of a night as when he met her...

_ Sally. Sally smelt like freshwater and salt. Wilbur was wearing his signature yellow sweater and glasses, the one Ghostbur currently wore in death and before the rebellion began. He had gone to the pond to watch the stars when he had heard flapping of water coming from a salmon in the pond.  _

_ Graceful, elegant, her fins glided smoothly through the water like an eagle soared through the skies. A ray of moonlight illuminated her gills. Wilbur was entranced with her movements, as a siren leads its prey to them with its beautiful voice. He grabbed a bucket which sat in the sand near the shore, intent to bring the fish back home with him as a pet.  _

_ He dipped it into the water, but when he tried scooping up the fish, there was a bright flash, and a hand was suddenly gripping his forearm. He let out a silent scream and flopped onto his back, crawling backwards and away from the arm as his glasses fell off of his face.  _

_ “Don't be afraid Wilbur”, an angelic voice called out to him. Wilburs eyes widened, hands blindly scrambling for his glasses.  _

_ Everything was blurry, but he could see the outline of a lean figure walking towards him. She bent down and picked up his glasses, tilting his chin as she placed them back onto his face.  _

_ “Close your mouth Wilbur. You look like a fish out of water.” She chuckled at her own ironic joke, using her long fingers to shut his jaw. Perhaps this was a siren after all.  _

_ He didn't remember much after, and that wasn't even Ghostburs fault.  _

_ The mythical being clouded Wilbur's mind with what he could only assume was magic, and the next thing he knew was he woke up on the shorelines of the DreamSMP with a baby fox in his arms and the whips of the name “Sally” fresh in his mind, like one of Tommy's disks on repeat. _

_ Fundy. Fundy scent was odd, as it changed. As Fundy grew older, his bond with Wilbur only seemed to grow stronger.  _

_ During the initial Lmanberg revolution, Fundy had been looking very stressed, his brows pinched in an unflattering manner. Wilbur had made some sort of a joke about how if he kept that lifeless look on his face, he would look like Philza by the time he reached Wilburs age.  _

_ Wilbur had offered Fundy to go on a fishing trip to relieve stress, back in the same pond he had met Sally. However, they wouldn't be going as President Wilbur or Secretary of State Fundy, but as father and son.  _

_ It was frankly terrible. Fundy's fishing line broke in the middle of the trip, they caught zero fish, and one of their paddles for their boat broke so they had to work extra hard to get back to the shore. Wilbur thought he had made a fool of himself and was too embarrassed to speak to Fundy again. _

_ It was unexpected when Fundy wrapped his arms around Wilbur and thanked him for the day, saying it was one of the best memories he would keep. He smelt like bark and fur, he smelt like Fundy.  _

_ Many months later during Schlatts rule, Fundy came back to Pogtopia’s little cave with information about Schlatts medical condition. He explained how he was working as a spy for Wilbur and Tommy, and prompted several ways to take down Schlatt.  _

_ When Fundy handed over his journal full of information, Wilbur was able to catch a whiff of his scent. It had changed. No longer was it the smell of freedom, but of a caged animal. Like a circus animal captured for the pleasure of watching eyes.  _

_ Wilbur couldn't put a finger on how to describe it, but it smelt wrong.  _

_ It didn't smell like Fundy.  _

Ghostbur hit the side of his head in anger and frustration, gears turning and grinding painfully as memories came flooding back, the gears hadn't been oiled in quite some time. 

Ghostbur remembers now. They had lost the election, and Schlatt had banished him and Tommy from Manberg, formally Lmanberg. It made so much sense now, why Ghostbur always felt an overwhelming amount of toxic nostalgia when he heard the man's name. 

He tried to pry further into what happened in the ravine of Pogtopia, but the gears in his head came to a screeching halt. Ghostbur presumes that even Wilbur had repressed those memories, not just Ghostbur. 

_ Niki. Niki smelt like cookies. _

_ Back when the revolution began, Wilbur loved her scent. He loved walking into her bakery and smelling the fresh pastries she had baked. Niki smelt like savoury cookies, warm out of the oven.  _

_ However, Ghostbur knows that when alive people eat savoury cookies, their throats get dry and sticky, and the overbearing sweetness of that cookie can lead you to dislike it, becoming sick at the scent. After the election and in Pogtopia, Niki had started acting weird. _

_ She would discard Tommy with a glare and then cling onto Wilbur. He found this odd; the woman was always so kind and loving to Tommy, why would she change that view now? _

_ He remembers her face when Tommy and Ranboo went to destroy George's house. It was a look of disappointment. Ghostbur understands why she would be disappointed, but she should also realise why Tommy was doing this. Ranboo was a new member who had no past knowledge of Tommy. Tommy wanted to make an impression, to get Ranboo onto Lmanbergs' side. But more importantly, Tommy wanted Ranboo to believe his front as the ‘confident big man’ to be true and not just a persona.  _

_ When Tommy was exiled by Tubbo, Niki had not even come out of her house to watch, or come to visit Tommy.  _

When Tommy came back to the SMP lands yesterday to try to fix what he did wrong, Niki started yelling at him calling him a monster and wishing that he was dead. “It's all of your fault!” “You're the reason why everyone is losing to Dream!” Niki had pure hatred for Tommy in her eyes, and it made Ghostbur want to cry. 

If it was anyone's fault it was his own, or Wilburs.  _ HE _ was the one to put Tommy, a  **_CHILD_ ** in vice charge of a nation.  _ HE _ was the one to drag Tommy down to the Pogtopian caves when he could have easily convinced Schlatt to only banish him,  _ HE _ was the one who manipulated Tommy to do what he wanted,  _ HE _ was the one to rig the festival with TNT- wait… what?

Ghostbur shot a shaky hand up to his mouth to stop a cry that wasn't going to ring out either way. He… he was the one… No. _No_ **nonoonononono**. It couldn't be him! But it made so much sense...

Why Tommy sometimes flinched away from Ghostbur, how the map of Lmanberg in Eret’s museum was blown up, why Tubbo freaked out when Ghostbur accidentally walked into that room that he now knows was HIS button room. He was the one who caused L’Manbergs downfall. 

He was fucking insane. Ghostbur gripped his head, pleading for the memories to stop as they rushed through his head uncontrollably.

_ Quackity. Quackity smelt surprisingly like wood and old leather books instead of drugs.  _

_ When Quackity ran through the Pogtopian forest after he had shot Schlatt with his crossbow, Wilbur originally thought it was an attack from Schlatt and he drew his sword poised to slaughter him.  _

_ Tommy had placed an arm in front of Wilbur and said to take a better look at Quackity. A large gash on his forehead was pouring out blood, bruises littered his body, and he was clutching his arm in pain.  _

_ Quackity pleaded for help, saying that Schlatt would kill him. Wilbur still wanted to end his life, but Tommy surprisingly stood up for Quackity. Wilbur would be lying if he said he didn't feel a rush of extreme anger through his veins.  _

_ ‘How DARE he?’ Wilbur had thought. After all of the manipulation he had put time into to make Tommy his? To make him his ultimate weapon? For Wilbur to have complete and absolute control over him?  _

_ Wilburs hand started to drip blood from where he was clutching the blade of his sword so hard while he was sharpening it in the caves of Pogtopia, listening to Tommy clean Quackitys wounds. _

_ He would also be lying if he said he didn't give punishment to Tommy later on, and how Tommy didn't have to make the excuse to Quackity when he saw his face the next day saying “I just took a tumble down the stairs.”  _

Ghostbur threw up in his mouth as he pleaded for the memories to stop, but to no avail the kept coming, taunting him as if to say “Lookie Lookie! Look at what you have done! Monster monster!”

_ Tubbo. Tubbo smelt like herbs and honey. He remembers a simpler time before the revolution. Tubbo had always loved the wilderness, specifically bees. He had even built his own honey farm. A honey farm that was later on blown up by certain withers that a certain someone set off. _

_ Even during the Pogtopia vs Manberg war he still carried this scent. He remembers a certain someone aiming a bow loaded with a firework and shooting it at the young boy, leaving bloody scars and a betrayed trust. _

_ Wilbur watched with a malicious smile as Tommy ender pearled his way down to Tubbo and grabbed him, trying to keep him from losing a life. Wilbur had grinned maniacally when the announcement that “Tubbo was blown up by Technoblade” rang out from his radio communicator.  _

_ He was getting closer to having Tommy to himself, his personal puppet. All he needed to do was get rid of Tubbo, then Tommy would never second guess himself if he wanted to destroy his home and everyone who lived there over the loss of his best friend. _

_ It was quite unfortunate that it had to be Technoblade that killed Tubbo, now Tommy had harboured hatred for the piglin hybrid. Technoblade’s decision was going to make destroying Lmanberg harder than he thought.  _

_ Well, it is not as if Wilbur would berate Techno for killing him. If Tommy couldn't learn to cooperate with Techno, he would have to learn how to fear him. So he had dug out a pit for the two to fight in. He knew that there was only one outcome to this. And he got it. _

_ Techno. Techno smelt like death. Although Ghostbur didn't know death had a scent, Techno seemed to still carry it.  _

_ Although a bit of light was mixed into it, unlike Dream who was consumed by it. Wherever Techno went came the stench of death; whether it be the blood on his sword or the promise of slaughter he makes to anyone who stands in his way. Techno was wrong. _

_ He had blamed Tommy for betraying him, for choosing Lmanberg over him. It wasn't Tommy's fault. Wilbur conditioned him into having no choice but to follow Lmanberg. Wilbur was a sick human being. Scratch that, Wilbur was a sick  _ **_monster_ ** _.  _

_ Both Tommy and Techno had good points to their argument, and Ghostbur was torn between the two. Ghostbur knows that there is still light in Techno; he could have kicked Tommy out of his house and into the snow, where he would have most likely died, but instead took him in and nursed him back to health, giving him the option of joining him. _

_ But could this small sliver of light really outweigh the darkness in Tommy's mind? Tommy's darkness was something evil, something much worse than his own or perhaps even Dreams, but it wasn't the same kind of darkness. _

_ While Dream and Wilburs darkness spawned from hatred, evil and insanity of their own doing, Tommys darkness was placed in there by others. Tommy darkness was filled with trauma, manipulation, and heartache.  _

He's  _ sixteen _ .  **_SIXTEEN FUCKING_ ** years old. And yet he harbours more pain than any man of any age should experience. And it's his fault. No, he wasn't the only one that caused this. 

Dream, Technoblade and Tubbo are involved. So is Niki, and Fundy. Quackity too. Everyone is involved. “I'm your only friend, only I care about you” “Do you want to be a hero Tommy, THAN DIE LIKE ONE!” “Dream, please escort Tommy out of my country” “Tommy, you did this! I hate you!” “Tommy I'm sorry, but this is all of your fault” “I would have stopped Tubbo from exiling you. But I couldn't make myself move.” 

Everyone had pushed Tommys head underwater while blaming him because he couldn't breathe. 

They acted as if Tommy could control this all as if Tommy was supposed to be some sort of amazing being who never made any mistakes. As if Tommy was the one who was supposed to be doing everything for them and if he fucked up once it wasn't their fault for putting all this pressure on him. 

They had led his younger brother to the point of a suicide attempt!

Ghostbur hit his hand on the rock, letting out a scream of grief. And for the first time, Ghostbur cried. Blue tear tracks ran down his face as he let ugly sobs shake and shutter his body. He had forgotten what it was like to cry, it had been months since he had been alive. 

He deserved it. 

After everything that has happened, EVERYONE deserves it besides Tommy. Tommy doesn't deserve to cry. He deserves to be happy. Ghostbur had learned from his past mistakes that lashing out with anger would only result in Tommy getting hurt more, and Ghostbur thinks he has found a solution.

_ Tommy. Tommy used to smell like lavender and amber. _

_ An under bearing smell that had shown his determination and hard work, mature for his age. But it also radiated childish innocence. Because Tommy is a child.  _

Now, Tommy smells like gunpowder, courtesy of Wilbur. Tommy smells like the blood of his own wounds. Tommy smells like salt, from the tears that he has held back so many times to complete the wishes of what everyone else expected of him. 

Tommy didn't smell like Tommy anymore. Tommy smelt like a child who had to grow up to fast for others who didn't appreciate or care about him enough. 

This includes himself. Ghostbur could remember everything. Was he even Ghostbur anymore? 

The tears had stopped a while ago, and (Ghostbur? Wilbur?) rose from the rock and made his way to the pond that lay beside him. He looked at his reflection as he pulled at his face. He was still a ghost. In some ways he was relieved- he didn't know what would happen if he suddenly became flesh and blood again because he regained his memories. He didn't know if he would have this new feeling he has now.

Ghostbur is gone. Wilbur has returned in the form of a ghost, with all his memories and past feelings. He still had that spark of insanity that the other Wilbur did, but it was faint. Wilbur knew better than to try and repress it, look where that got him before. This time, he would use it to help his plan. 

He had caused so much harm to Tommy and would be surprised if Tommy ever forgave him in a thousand years. But he wanted to try. 

Wilbur slipped his hand into his boot, pulling out the object that Philza had given to him earlier that day. 

Wilbur would take Tommy away from this place, he would give him the childhood he deserves. If Tommy never forgave him, he would be fine with that. He would take him away to somewhere safe, it was the only thing he could do left now. Who cares about L’Manberg anymore? Tommy was all that mattered now, and Wilbur would be damned if he couldn't do anything about it. 

“Tommy, I want you to bring me back to life.” He had asked that earlier today, disregarding what Tommy was feeling and asking Tommy for yet  _ ANOTHER _ favour. 

He wouldn't ask Tommy to do that for him. He had already asked enough things from the boy. It was time he started paying him back and maybe doing something himself this time. 

Wilbur clutched the totem of undying in his hand firmly, closing his eyes as he leaned forward, falling into the water. He let the darkness envelop him with a smile. 

His radio communicator buzzed with two notifications from where it sat upon the rock.

**Ghostbur drowned.**

**Wilbur Soot has joined the game.**


End file.
